The whole room chuckles as though I’ve made a cute joke, but truly, I have questions. Ethan can’t be entirely dumb, student athletes need to keep a decent GPA to be eligible to play, but I also know most schools make it their business to ensure the best athletes meet those requirements by whatever means necessary. Ethan Taylor is our school’s very best athlete. Or was. When I think of everything I sacrificed to get here, all the hours I spent studyingto boost my GPA, it burns to think Ethan somehow strolled on in. And even though I don’t know much about his family, if he’s from Beaufort, it’s pretty likely he comes from a lot more money than I do.
Not a day goes by when my mom or dad or both fail to remind me how much they’ve had to scrape together to pay my tuition fees, and not a day goes by that I don’t feel impossibly guilty about it. Ethan might not have Jenna and Michael money, but I’ll bet his Beaufort family absolutely has enough to grease the wheels and get him into a prestigious junior year abroad program. My only question is, why would he want to leave Marshall to begin with?
‘Mia.’
The moment Freddie wraps up, I jump out of my chair but I’m not fast enough. Ethan rests a hand on my shoulder, and I freeze. Everyone else filters out of the room, exchanging numbers on torn-out pages of notebooks, and I watch them go, pinned to the spot.
‘Ethan?’
‘Can you please tell me what I’ve done to upset you?’
He stares at me with the kind of puppy-dog eyes that would probably work on ninety-nine per cent of the Hemden population, but I’ve had my shots against charismatic Southern men, I’m immune.
‘Whatever it is, I’m happy to apologize but I would like to know what I’m apologizing for.’
For a moment, I don’t know what to say. He hasn’t done anything wrong, not really, but we’re not friends and I don’t want to be. I didn’t exist in his orbit and that’s fine. When it comes to thepeople we do have in common, Breanna and his friend Gabe, they both went out of their way to make my life miserable. My dad always says you can tell everything about someone by the people they choose to surround themselves with.
‘If you don’t think you have anything to apologize for, you shouldn’t apologize,’ I tell him, staring at his hand until he removes it from my shoulder.
‘We’re not friends,’ I add. ‘No reason why things have to be different here than they were at Marshall.’
‘We could be friends,’ Ethan protests and I pull the sleeves of my sweater over my hands so he doesn’t see my frustrated, balled-up fists.
‘Why? We have nothing in common, you don’t know anything about me.’
‘And what, you know so much about me?’ he counters, looking altogether too pleased with himself. ‘C’mon, Mia, you need to relax.’
One of the dumbest things any man can ever say to a woman. Tilting my head to one side, I smile at him sweetly.
‘What was happening in your room this morning?’
Ethan’s triumph is short-lived. Just because I don’t get along with his girlfriend doesn’t mean I can’t call out a douche when he’s openly cheating.
‘What was happening in my room? What do you mean?’
‘All that noise,’ I say. ‘The crashing, the banging, the shouting. That wasn’t you?’
‘That was not me.’ He ducks his head then looks at me from under his hair, faux bashful, and I assume I’m supposed to be charmed. ‘Technically, it wasn’t.’
‘Classy.’ I shake my head as I gather up my things, more certainof my position than ever. ‘Less than twenty-four hours and you’re already breaking the rules. You know we’re not supposed to have overnight guests in the flat?’
‘No way.’
‘Yes way.’
‘Huh.’ He shoves his hands deep in his pockets. ‘I did not know we’re not supposed to have overnight guests. What a stupid rule.’
‘I wonder if your girlfriend would think it’s stupid?’
Now it’s his turn to freeze, the cocky look on his face hardening into something stony. The temperature of the Greenwood room seems to drop by several degrees and without meaning to, I take a cautious step away from Ethan’s towering, furious frame.
‘I haven’t got a girlfriend.’
He turns away and snatches up the door handle so hard I worry that the entire antique door is going to come off in his hand.
‘Maybe,’ he says without turning to face me, ‘you’re the one who doesn’t know anything about me.’
And before I can open my mouth to apologize, he’s gone.
